FEAR: Alma's First
by JahuJames
Summary: An every-man sitting in his living room, living his day-to-day life suddenly finds himself in a nightmare. One Chapter


**First Encounter Assault Recon: Alma's First**

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"_I'm here…"_ A cold voice was heard echoing throughout the living room, a middle-aged man proceeded to jump out of his chair, the hair on his neck standing on end. His television's reception began to fizzle out and die till only the static could be heard, the lights of the household dimming and burning out. The man could feel a malevolent presence in the room, something demanded his attention.

"_Remember the things they did?"_whispered the little voice, _"I remember you…"_ it continued. The man now worried for his safety proceeded to run to the nearest phone to call for help. He hastily ran over to a small coffee table next to the television where his mobile phone was resting and picked it up.

"_You're alone." _The voice stated, it was becoming more than just a whisper now and it began to sound like a little girl. The man frantically dialling the emergency services on his phone glanced around his living room to locate the origin of the voice, to no avail. He proceeded to walk into his hallway, to exit the house, only to find his door locked, unable to open.

"What the hell is going on?!" the man exclaimed, trying to open his front door with all the might he could muster, with no results. "Who the hell are you?! Why can't I get out?!"

"_Don't leave me…" _the little girl was heard to say, as the man began to walk upstairs, a sense of urgency overtaking his emotions, he knew something was inside his house, but what was it? Stopping on the stairs he realised the network on his cellular phone wasn't responding, either.

"God damn, why won't my fucking phone work…?!" He walked back into his living room and noticed a shadow standing where the coffee table was. In that moment, a sense of blackness entered the room, the man felt like despair had consumed him, resulting in him closing his eyes and rambling like a little child…

"Go away, you're not real… you're a god damn ghost, you're not real!"

"_I remember the things they did…" _The man could feel a cold chill run down his spine; the voice was closer… almost as if the words were being whispered into his own ear. He reopened his eyes, ever so slightly, and to his glee noticed the shadow had disappeared. And for a brief moment it would appear the darkness of the world had left his room.

"Oh god… It's gone?" He sounded ever-so relieved and brushed it off as if it were some sort of daydream his mind had concocted. After placing his phone back down on the coffee table, he noticed the static on the television had begun to, what seemingly looked like, dissolve into dull grey colours. Standing back, to get a better picture and a better understanding of what was going on, he proceeded to stare intently at the television.

"What is this?" He asked out loud, half expecting an answer. He quickly picked up the remote and losing no time began to press all the buttons on the contraption to turn the televisions channel over, or turn it off completely.

A figure seemed to form on the television; a blur of red is all that could be made out…

"_I remember the things you did… you, Harlan…Origin. You helped him…" _The television suddenly flickered bright colours, then died down, shutting down altogether, killing all the light in the house. All that remained was the heavy breathing of a middle-aged man, choking on the cold air which gripped the room.

"What the hell are you?!" he screamed, his voice crackling. Collapsing on the floor he felt his movement restricted, the sense of evil which had consumed him returned. A shiver ran down his spine as he tried to move himself into a different position, only to find himself unable to latch onto anything… It was if he'd been moved into a different location, somewhere outside of his living room.

"_You made me what I am…" _

A light flickered above him, and the man found himself able to move. More and more, the power to the light grew and he found himself staring across a large room with what seemed to be a gigantic sphere, as if it were something out of a steam-punk dream, on the opposite end. Lit up by one solitary bulb the man could make out three words;

"**Project Origin: Alma"**

The bulb above him fizzled and exploded, the shards of glass littering down upon him. Raising his arms over his head, to protect himself, he cowered on the floor , shaking, and visibly disturbed he began to cry, the sense of dread overcoming him, he realised what was to come. In the all too familiar darkness, the man holding back his tears was heard to say two simple words;

"I'm sorry…"

"_I'm not…"_

The television, in the mans room, begun to slowly turn back on, resuming the programming it was on before the phenomenon occurred. The man's house retreating back into the normal habitat it once was. The man however was no where to be seen, with a pool of blood soaking the middle of his living room.

"_My first toy…"_ the innocent voice whispered, followed by a short girlish giggle, as if to suggest all this was just a simple game.

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_NOTE: I have to state, I feel somewhat that this ending was a sort-of...anti-climax? Any ideas on how to improve this? Please enlighten me, hehe._

_I'd also like to point out, the name of the man is never told simply because I didn't seem it necessary - it's better to stick a faceless figure to the victim... on top of that, it was pretty obvious that a project so big would require more than just Harlan Wade's expertise to get 'working'. Hence, I invented this character as a sort of...science advisor / helper to Wade and his Project Origin. Hence Alma's desire to make him pay. I know, I know, most of you will get this, but I wanted to clarify it here as it is only ONE chapter and in case you don't get anything, it's always best to explain it here. :)_


End file.
